Life Stories and Everyday Drama - page 56

The birthday celebration I had planned for my wife Jennifer on Friday was supposed to be a joyous occasion. I always strive for her gifts to be a surprise, which can be a challenge since Jennifer tends to open every Amazon package that arrives, sometimes spoiling the surprise if it's her gift. This year, I thought I'd outsmart the situation.

You see, my sister Laura and Jennifer have always had a rocky relationship, primarily due to differing worldviews and values. Their conflicts mostly stem from Laura's past requests for financial help, which doesn't sit well with Jennifer. Though I manage our finances separately, lending money to Laura occasionally from my personal account — never from the joint one Jennifer and I share — and she has always been diligent about repayment.

To avoid any accidental gift reveal this year, I decided to have Jennifer’s birthday present sent to Laura's place. I planned to pick it up the day before the big celebration. However, things went south quickly when Laura texted to confirm the packages had arrived, and Jennifer saw the notification pop up on my phone.

Immediately, Jennifer assumed that I was financially helping Laura again and voiced her frustration, labeling my sister as someone who relies too much on others and never manages her affairs well. This led to a heated argument between us, during which I blurted out that the packages were actually her birthday gifts, which only served to escalate the conflict. In my frustration, I declared that I would return the gifts and cancel her birthday dinner.

The following argument only grew more intense, and I followed through with calling off the plans and had Laura send back the gifts. Jennifer was livid, calling me a jerk, declaring the whole debacle my fault. This has left me questioning whether I mishandled things or if I was right in standing my ground.

Now, imagine if this whole scenario played out on a reality TV show. The cameras capturing every raw emotion and angry word exchanged could have potentially swayed public opinion - either garnering sympathy for my attempt at a thoughtful surprise or painting me as the villain in the drama of a soured relationship with my sister being dragged into the frame. The very essence of our private conflict morphed into entertainment for others could shift perceptions drastically, based solely on editing and presentation.

Did I act correctly in this scenario???

I have a longstanding friendship with Jill, stretching back over two decades, and we're part of a larger circle of friends, about 15-20 strong. We've developed a tradition where different members of our group take turns hosting a Thanksgiving dinner for those of us remaining in town each year. Ever since Jill adopted a vegan lifestyle a decade ago, our group has made it a point to include vegan options, like tofurkey, alongside one side dish and one dessert specifically for her at these gatherings.

This year, however, brought a new twist. Jill excitedly volunteered to host Thanksgiving at her house for the first time. Initially, we were all supportive, but then she announced in our group chat that the entire meal would be strictly vegan. Some of us, respectful of her choices but still wanting traditional elements like turkey, suggested bringing non-vegan dishes. Jill was adamant, countering with claims that vegan food “tastes exactly the same” as non-vegan food. I beg to differ, based on past experiences at her house where I’ve tried various dishes, from bean burgers to a type of vegan chocolate cake, which she claimed were indistinguishable from their traditional counterparts.

After some thought and a discussion with my husband, we decided to respectfully decline her invitation. I was honest with her about our preference for a traditional Thanksgiving meal, expressing no desire for deceit such as feigning out-of-town travel plans. Since our conversation, Jill’s demeanor has shifted noticeably; she's become increasingly irritated. She even lamented to other friends that I was boycotting her dinner purely because she was hosting.

This sentiment isn't entirely inaccurate but didn't sit right with me, so I clarified to the others that despite our efforts over the years to accommodate her dietary choices, it felt unjust for her to demand that everyone conform to her vegan diet at this event. This sparked a shift in group dynamics, as several friends then aligned with my perspective and opted to organize an alternative Thanksgiving gathering, which my husband and I also decided to skip.

Admittedly, my husband believes it might have been wiser to fabricate a small white lie or avoid sharing the full extent of my reasoning with the other women. For now, I’ve chosen to distance myself from the ensuing drama, though Jill seems to hold me responsible for the unraveling of her plans.

If one were to frame this as an episode in a reality TV show, the drama and tension might have made for sensational viewing, playing up the clash between lifestyle choices and personal friendships. With cameras rolling, audiences would be drawn into the back-and-forth, perhaps even taking sides based on personal dietary beliefs or their views on respecting others' choices. The dynamic would add an interesting layer of public opinion to the mix, influencing whose actions are perceived as justifiable or inconsiderate.

I can't help but wonder, am I wrong for turning down a vegan Thanksgiving?

I adore my wife, Emily. She's the epitome of both beauty and brains, teaching high school English and Social Studies with a passion for literature that is nearly unmatched. Her enthusiasm for novels is contagious, often juggling several reads simultaneously.

Nonetheless, Emily's ability to keep up with film plots is, amusingly, non-existent—unless the film revolves around a cliché storyline involving a big-city lawyer going back to her roots only to fall in love with her past. This peculiar quirk of hers has been an amusement in our marriage for as long as I can remember.

Back when we were dating, we decided to watch "The Matrix." Throughout the movie, Emily's bewildering questions challenged my perception of her understanding complex narratives. It was the same with "The Usual Suspects"; despite the plot being laid out clearly, she missed the twist at the end.

Recently, during a double date night with her sister and brother-in-law, her sister proposed we watch "Shutter Island," a film rife with psychological twists. I attempted to sway the group towards a less intricate movie—anything that wouldn't leave Emily puzzled. But the consensus was firm, and as anticipated, Emily struggled with the plot, much to the bemused glances of our guests.

Trying to save the evening, I whispered to Emily that I'd explain later, but this only seemed to frustrate her. After everyone left, she confronted me, feeling cornered into watching only simplistic narratives. Emily argued she wasn't naive, just not particularly focused when it came to films. She even recounted several novel plots to emphasize her point. In response, I reassured her of her intellectual prowess, which far exceeded mine. Yet, she still felt slighted that we didn't watch more engaging films together.

Compromising, we watched "Memento" the next day. Needless to say, she spent the evening piecing together the storyline, even resorting to reading the plot on Wikipedia to keep up.

Is it unfair of me to avoid complex movies for the sake of our shared movie nights?

If our situation unfolded on a reality show, the audience would probably be split. Some might sympathize with Emily's struggle to grasp movie plots, finding the humor in our interactions. Others might criticize me for not challenging her more or for not offering better support during our viewings. Reality TV thrives on such conflicts, often highlighting them for entertainment value.

Did I handle our movie selection poorly?

For the past three years, I've had no contact with my mother due to several deep-seated issues between us. The situation escalated when I discovered she had misappropriated $15,000 from me and incurred over $45,000 in debts under my name using my social security number. Throughout my life, she was emotionally manipulative, and she even attempted to sabotage my relationship with my now-husband before our marriage. For these reasons, among others, I made the decision not to invite her to my destination wedding.

The wedding day arrived, and about an hour before the ceremony, my maid of honor informed me that my mother had unexpectedly appeared, having travelled all the way across the country to attend without an invitation. I asked my maid of honor to escort her to my bridal suite so I could speak with her privately. During our conversation, I firmly explained that she would need to leave or I would cause a scene and embarrass her in front of the entire family. Despite her tearful pleas and attempts to manipulate the conversation, she ultimately agreed to leave.

Following the ceremony, several relatives approached me, expressing their displeasure over my actions. They argued that I should have allowed her to stay, claiming that she only wanted to witness her first daughter's marriage. I knew better; her presence was merely an attempt to regain control over my life. Since then, her side of the family has bombarded my phone with messages declaring that my husband and I are in the wrong and demanding an apology from us.

If this tense and emotional scenario were to unfold on a reality show, I can only imagine the heightened drama and public opinion that would surround it. Cameras capturing every tear and harsh word would likely polarize viewers, some sympathizing with my need to protect my peace on my wedding day, and others vilifying me for rejecting a parent, regardless of our fraught history. The heated discussions it would provoke among the fanbase could very well dominate social media, with team hashtags and all sort of debates.

Am I really so unreasonable as my family claims?

I'm currently in my 32nd week of pregnancy with our first child, which my husband, Felix, and I are very excited about. Luckily, Felix works as a builder, so setting up the nursery was a breeze. We decided early on the style and theme we wanted, and now it's almost finished. It feels great getting this big task out of the way before the baby arrives.

However, my mother-in-law, who has always been a bit overbearing, has been a challenge, even more so after learning about the pregnancy. Despite trying to be supportive, her approach can be critical. For instance, she once suggested I should lose weight for the sake of my health and the baby's, fully aware of my past battles with anorexia. Usually, I let Felix handle her because of her overbearing nature.

Lately, as the nursery neared completion, her pop-ins have increased—especially inconvenient since I work from home. She often comes in, casually asks about my meals, and proceeds to invite herself to join. She doesn’t stop there, though; she often heads straight into the nursery and begins rearranging what Felix and I have set up.

Yesterday was particularly trying. She arrived unexpectedly, criticized my attire, and made a scene about changes I made in the nursery for safety reasons, like removing pillows and fairy lights from near the crib. I tried to explain, but she retorted with outdated advice and hurtfully questioned my potential as a mother. Overwhelmed and tired, I finally snapped and asked her to leave, which she did, albeit begrudgingly.

I wonder if I overreacted; Felix is already planning to speak with her about respecting our boundaries. But was it just pregnancy hormones, or was I right to stand my ground?

Honestly, I imagine if this were to happen on a reality show, the audience would probably be split. Some might cheer for standing up to such an invasive mother-in-law, while others might think I was harsh, interpreting my reaction as part of a dramatic storyline. Reality show or not, it's hard balancing others' expectations with your own during such a vulnerable time.

Was my reaction to my MIL over the top?

My husband and I are parents to a wonderful 12-year-old daughter who has recently become the target of intense bullying at her school. The issue escalated quickly from mere name-calling to more aggressive harassment. A bit of background; our daughter was adopted, something we've always openly cherished as part of her unique story. Unfortunately, once this detail became known at school, the bullying intensified with classmates making cruel remarks about her birth mother not wanting her, despite the fact that her birth mother made a huge sacrifice due to her immense love for her.

The situation recently took a disturbing turn when our daughter returned home devastated, with two inches crudely chopped off her ponytail. This happened in class as her peers mocked and ridiculed her, compounding her humiliation and distress. The ongoing torment follows her through the halls daily.

My husband and I have reached out to the school relentlessly, through emails, phone calls, and direct visits to discuss the matter with teachers and the principal. Each interaction ended with vague assurances of "looking into the matter," but no real action followed. Seeing the toll it's taking on her—her anxiety, disrupted sleep, and pleas to avoid school altogether—we felt compelled to consider legal measures against the school and the bully's family in search of some resolution.

It was only when the threat of legal involvement was clear that the school and the bully's parents began to show a semblance of concern. The school has since moved the bully to a different class and the parents insisted they'd address their child's behavior. But can they be trusted? To me, these feel like temporary solutions, mere gestures to defuse the legal threat rather than a genuine commitment to resolving the issue.

Given the circumstances, most of my family believes I should pause the legal proceedings now that the school seems to be responding. Yet, I can't shake off the feeling that these actions are superficial, primarily aimed at avoiding litigation rather than safeguarding my daughter.

Imagine if our story were featured in a reality show, the intensity of the public's reaction could potentially sway the school into taking more permanent and effective measures. Would the dramatization and spotlight pressure the school administration and the bully’s parents into genuinely addressing the bullying issue or would it just make them more defensive?

So, am I wrong for continuing with legal action even though the school and the bully's parents now claim they’re addressing the issue?

My niece Abby, who is now 13, has developed quite the passion for collecting Loungefly backpacks over the past few years. Everyone in the family and beyond has contributed to her growing collection, which now boasts around 50 unique pieces. She takes great pride in showcasing her collection on platforms like Instagram and TikTok, where she's attracted a considerable following. I help her manage these accounts since she's too young to handle them alone.

Recently, an issue arose when my sister, Mallory, began dating a man whose daughter, Emma, is 15. Unfortunately, both Mallory and her boyfriend have been grappling with some financial difficulties largely due to past lifestyle choices, though they are on the mend. With Emma's birthday approaching, Mallory asked if Emma could have one of Abby's backpacks—one that she had admired on Instagram. This particular backpack is not only rare but was also one of Abby's first and features her favorite character. Furthermore, the bag has been discontinued and fetches around $500 on resale sites.

I understand Mallory's situation, and so I offered to help split the cost of a new bag for Emma. However, Mallory was adamant that it had to be the specific backpack from Abby's collection. She even suggested featuring Emma on Abby’s popular TikTok page. I declined this proposition, explaining that TikTok was Abby’s personal project and not everyone had a right to be a part of it. I have had similar conversations with my younger kids, ages 7 and 10, about respecting their sister's space and decisions concerning her social media ventures.

Mallory accused me of being selfish, particularly in regard to the backpack and not allowing Emma a spot on Abby's “famous TikToks.” I found her demands unreasonable, especially since Abby and I haven’t even met Emma. Mallory went as far as to call Abby and me spoiled and declared she'd never seek our help again. Even my mother sided with Abby and me, understanding our viewpoint. Subsequently, in a rather dramatic move, Mallory posted a TikTok about severing ties with toxic family members. She's now awaiting an apology, maintaining that I am bullying her and Emma, despite our limited interactions.

Amid this family drama, one wonders how this situation would unfold under the keen eyes of a reality TV audience. Picture the intense scrutiny and perhaps a divided public opinion, with live polls asking viewers to decide who's in the right. Such a feature might intensify the drama, given the contrasting views on personal property and family obligations.

If this were a segment on a reality show, how would the audience react to the family dynamics and the battle over a teen's treasured possessions?

After I had finished making dinner, I left some dirty dishes in the sink to wash them after I was done eating dinner. While I was having dinner, one of my roomate's girlfriend entered the kitchen saw the dishes and washed them herself. When I saw the clean dishes, I felt kinda embarressed because I felt like she was lowkey forced to wash the dishes because I had left them there, making me look like a dirty lazy pig.

In order to show her my gratitude, I wanted to give my roomate (who had shared with me some snacks a few times) and her some grapes, becaue that was honestly the best I could give them. She was showering while I was preparing the grapes and putting them in the cutest cups I could find, and, when she came out the bathroom, I stopped her in the middle of the hallway. The problem is that she was not wearing her PJs like I thougt she would. Instead, she had a towel wrapped around her. So, the situation turned a bit awkward and, as a stupid being I am, I just stood there awkwardly and offered her the grapes. She told me (as politely as she could) that she didn't want them, but maybe her boyfriend did and then she started walking to their bedroom. I thought that she was going to ask her boyfriend if he wanted the grapes, so I followed her to the room, but she just closed the door once she reached there, making me look like a creep that had just followed her to the room while she was practically naked :)

Even though it was something really random and stupid, it made me feel very bad, but as the self-gaslighter I am, I told myslef to pretend that nothing happened. So, I just went back to the kitchen and kept the grapes, and then I went to the bathroom to wash my teeth. As I was washing my teeth, I heard their door opening, and after a few seconds of giving myself a pep talk I exited the bathroom because I thought that my roomate actually wanted the grapes like his girlfriend had told me, but there was no one there, leaving me quite confused. I also had to pee, so I entered the bathroom again. When I was done, another roomate told me that the other guy wanted to enter the bathroom, but since I was inside he turned around, but then I opened the door (cause I thought he wanted grapes), making him think I was done, so he directed himself to the bathroom again. However, I entered the bathroom again (cause I had to pee), pissing him off.

So, basically I had embarrassed twice in less than five minutes, when the only thing I wanted was to give those people grapes!!!! After thinking for a while, I think I'll be avoiding them for a while for my own sake lol.

A few weeks after an intense Father's Day, my mother, her new husband, and I found ourselves in group therapy. This decision was fueled by their frustrations with my refusal to embrace the family dynamic they envisioned. We initiated our sessions towards the end of July, and by the end of August, tensions had escalated: during one session, my mom, teary-eyed and distressed, labeled me a liar, deeply wounded by what she perceived as my efforts to undermine her marriage.

The accusation infuriated me—I had been truthful throughout our discussions. I detailed my perspective in the subsequent session, highlighting my feelings about being wrongfully called dishonest. My mom interrupted repeatedly, dismissing the therapist's attempts to mediate and doubling down on her accusations against me.

To understand the core of our issue, it's important to consider the backdrop. Three years prior, shortly after my mother’s husband entered our lives and a mere two months before they married, they proposed we become a 'family' again. The notion included him stepping into a fatherly role—filling the void left by my father's passing. During a discussion in February, they outlined a hopeful picture of our future as a unified family, including celebrating Father’s Day altogether. I was clear from the start: I did not want a replacement for my dad, nor did I intend to celebrate Father's Day with him. Despite this, they laughed it off, but when the day came each year, the issue reared its head again. This past year, he lost patience, complaining about my absence on Father's Day and his unfulfilled role.

My mom's claim of deceit stemmed from her belief that I had agreed to forge a closer bond with her husband and to partake in family traditions like Father's Day—promises she insisted I made. Her allegations were baseless; I had been explicit about my feelings and intentions from the beginning.

Throughout therapy, the therapist struggled to maintain a balanced dialogue, often unable to rein in my mom and her husband's dominant presence. Frustrated and feeling unheard, I eventually withdrew, engaging minimally. It was only recently that they noticed my disengagement, which I confirmed, demanding an apology for the false accusations before I would reconsider my participation. This sparked further frustration from them, accusing me of stalling the therapeutic process.

In an environment like a reality show, my stand could potentially evoke mixed reactions from the audience. There could be a strong empathetic response from viewers who appreciate my steadfastness in preserving my father's memory and recognizing the complexities of blended families. On the other hand, some might view my actions as stubborn, perhaps misunderstanding the depth of my emotions connected to my father's absence and the significance of Father's Day.

Would I be justified in demanding an apology?

As my husband's birthday approaches, I find myself at the 38-week mark of my pregnancy. Last week, somewhat hesitantly, I agreed to let his sister collect our daughter from school for a day with her grandparents. Despite my reservations due to their past overstepping of boundaries, I recognize the importance of family bonds and relented.

During a recent visit to pick up our daughter from his parents' place, my husband's sister inquired about his birthday plans. Although I had repeatedly asked him what he desired to do, and even suggested several family-oriented activities, he remained undecided. When his sister proposed making him dinner at her apartment, he eagerly agreed. The dinner would involve both sets of parents, her partner, and our immediate family, which seemed like an ideal arrangement.

However, later, my husband suggested we drive separately because he intended to stay late, socializing, smoking, and drinking. He requested that I leave early with our daughter to put her to sleep. This struck a nerve, as the partnership in our marriage seemed to wane throughout my pregnancy. He had missed almost all my ultrasounds due to voluntary work commitments over weekends and neglected essential preparations for the nursery. Moreover, he hadn't shown any initiative in preparing for the birth, something that would significantly support me.

The sense of solitary burden compounded by his apparent disregard for my condition makes me feel neglected and sidelined. Our birthdays are close, and my due date looms just two days after mine. This means I'll likely spend my birthday heavily pregnant and largely immobile, longing for shared celebrations that seem to matter little to him.

In a flare of frustration, I declared that I would skip the birthday dinner and keep our daughter with me at home, as attending under these circumstances would only distress me further. It often feels as though, despite his self-professed role as a 'family man,' he does not prioritize spending meaningful time with us.

If our lives were part of a reality show, imagine the dynamics and audience reactions to such instances of apparent marital discord and imbalance in family responsibilities. The viewers might side with one or the other, debating on social media and through polls whether my feelings are justified or if perhaps we are both under pressure in different ways due to the impending arrival of our new baby.

Am I wrong here??? How should we improve our communication before the baby arrival?

Several years back, a couple of years after my college graduation, I reluctantly started a job in an office. It was a position I accepted begrudgingly. Imagining a life confined to the monotonous ebb and flow of a 9-5 job was disheartening, especially since I had aspired for either graduate school or to join the Peace Corps, both of which had rejected my applications. However, reality bit with looming student loans and rent demands.

My supervisor, Kerry, noticed my lack of enthusiasm and took it upon herself to brighten my days. She learned about my fondness for Harry Potter and transformed my cubicle into a charming Ravenclaw-themed space. It featured themed decorations, blue and silver office essentials, and even included a Luna Lovegood collectible figure. Kerry's efforts meant a great deal to me, and her kindness helped make my days at the office bearable.

Sadly, a few months later, a complaint from a colleague about my themed corner reached HR, prompting its removal. It was a disheartening moment, but life and work went on. Fast forward to recently, layoffs happened in the company. Ironically, the person who had complained about my cubicle decor was one of those laid off, and the HR representative involved had long left the company.

With those changes, and feeling a bit more encouraged, I decided to resurrect my Ravenclaw cubicle. It uplifted my mood, replacing the stark, bland surrounding with something that resonated with me personally. However, this had an unintended effect; some friends of my former colleague interpreted this as me gloating over her job loss, which was not my intention at all. I simply wanted to revive a setting that brought happiness to my daily routine.

Imagine this situation unfolding in a reality show setting. The drama and misconceptions would probably be heightened, portrayed with confrontational encounters or confessionals from other cast members commenting on their views. It would certainly stir much debate among viewers, analyzing my intentions versus the perceived insensitivity my actions could have caused.

Was reintroducing my Harry Potter decorations a celebration of her layoff, or simply a reclaiming of personal joy? Reality TV would magnify every angle, possibly leading the audience to choose sides based on the emotional portrayal.

I want to knwo if am I wrong for restoring the decorations that brought me joy?

Having recently retired from my long-term career as a wedding planner, I found myself confronted with a delicate family dilemma. My son, Jack, and his fiancée, Emma, approached me with the request to organize their wedding. Given my extensive background, this didn't seem like an unusual ask, especially since I had taken charge of planning my daughter's nuptials earlier.

However, I felt compelled to decline their request. The major sticking point for me was Emma's habitual tardiness, which she attributes to cultural differences, asserting that it's common in her family to be late. Indeed, her family members typically arrive at least 30 minutes late to any event, and this has always been a source of frustration for me. I knew that organizing a wedding with Emma would require constant meetings, and I couldn't bear the thought of repeatedly waiting for her to show up.

This issue was exacerbated by the fact that we would need to attend various appointments with vendors and other professionals, where punctuality is paramount. I feared such recurring delays could potentially embarrass me and reflect poorly on us both. Despite previous discussions about her punctual shortcomings – one vivid memory includes her being late to my own birthday dinner – there seemed to be no shift in her behavior. Even after speaking with my son, who invariably supports her, there seemed to be no resolution in sight.

I clearly explained my reasons to them, but the conversation did not go well. Jack was disappointed, feeling I wasn’t giving Emma a fair chance, especially in light of my involvement in his sister's wedding. Emma, on the other hand, felt personally offended that her lateness was the reason I declined the role. From my perspective, her consistent failure to arrive on time left me unwilling to venture into what I anticipated would be a stressful project.

Imagine if this scenario were unwrapped under the glaring lights of a reality show, with cameras tracking every argument and confession. The tension could escalate dramatically, potentially dividing family members and audiences alike. Would viewers empathize with my plight as a punctuality-prone planner, or would they vilify me for not making allowances for cultural differences? Reality TV thrives on such conflicts, magnifying personal issues to entertain its audience.

Am I being unreasonable here?

Recently, I moved into my first apartment, which has given me the exciting chance to personalize my living space. My mom, an incredibly talented artist with a knack for creating fantasy settings inspired by ancient Greece, painted something special for my brother and me. The painting showcases a teenage prince and princess, presumably siblings, engaged in a playful sparring session. Unique to her art and reflective of ancient Greek influences, the siblings are depicted without shirts, symbolizing equality and a different norm of modesty.

This artwork, filled with sentimental value, holds a place of honor in my apartment's main room. The painting not only captures her artistic skill but also represents a nod to cultural storytelling and historical norms.

However, not long ago, my grandparents and my young cousin, who's just 13, came to visit. I hadn't considered that the painting might be seen as controversial, so I didn't think to remove or cover it. Upon seeing the painting, my grandmother was outraged, labeling it as inappropriate. She expressed severe disapproval, saying it was wrong to display such an image, and even had my cousin wait outside in the car. She pressured me to hide the painting immediately.

Conflicted and taken aback by her strong reaction, I stood my ground. The tension escalated into a full-blown argument as I felt judged in my own home. Her reaction made me question if I was wrong to hang the painting so prominently without considering different perspectives on decency.

Now, imagine if this situation unfolded on a reality TV show, where every dispute and dramatic moment is magnified for entertainment. How might the viewers react to such a family quarrel over a piece of art? Would the public side with my freedom to display any art I choose in my own home, or would they agree with my grandmother's more conservative views on what is deemed appropriate? The inclusion of cameras and an audience could potentially intensify the family dynamics, turning a personal disagreement into a spectacle that challenges both personal and cultural boundaries.

What do you think - was it inappropriate for me to display such art in my home, or should personal freedom in one's living space remain unchallenged?

For the past 6 years I’ve been fighting to be noticed and seen by my family, I have 6 siblings, and that counting the half siblings on my mom AND my dad’s side. So, it was hard to get attention. It was hard to get anything, when my dad came back from prison. I was 7 or 8, and at the time me and my family were living with my grandparents (except for my mom, she left us)

So needless to say I missed him, like any child would. But, he barely payed attention to me. When I had problems he would brush them off, when my older brother was physically abusing he didn’t stop him either. Sure, they “talked” but that didn’t make it stop. Years go by…. I try and try and try to tell him that I’m depressed, that I NEED help. And you know what he does? He sits me down and helps me smoke a joint, I was 13. And when I was high out of my mind, that’s when I realized. He didn’t care, he didn’t care if my brother was hurting me. He didn’t care if I was suicidal, he didn’t give a fuck. So i stopped caring, I stopped talking. I stopped leaving my room and only talked to people online because at least THEY noticed me, I felt invisible. It’s funny, it’s not even my dad. It was EVERYONE in my family, my twin and my older sister were quiet about it all and my two younger brothers were KIDS. They didn’t know what was going on, my stepmom didn’t say much either. But everything changed when we moved to Colorado, you see. My Older brother SA my sister for years (she was 9 when it started) the reason why I know is that my dad told me. Because he thought I would be nicer too her after I heard about it, what it really did is fuck me up for 6 months. That wasn’t the only thing that happened though, he basically blamed me for “not being a good sister”

Ever since then, everything got better. I lived in a apartment with my stepmom and my sister and that was probably the best thing that could happen, my stepmom told me that she was sorry for everything and now tells my dad that it wasn’t JUST my sister who got hurt by him, my sister and I have a good relationship and my brother and I are still chill. My dad still blames me for like 75% of what my older brother did to me… idk anymore, I’m still mad that he didn’t give a fuck until my “darling” of a sister told him what happened to her. I know I’m a bad person for saying this but, I’m envious of my sister. Because she at least gets taken seriously

Ps: sorry for all of the typos I KNOW I’m gonna make

In the healthcare sector where I work, we typically enjoy a harmonious team environment. However, a challenging situation has arisen that has tested the unity of our department. One of our colleagues, who I'll refer to as Sarah, was recently diagnosed with cancer. The prognosis isn't definitive yet, but given her age and other health issues, it seems grim. While Sarah and I have never been particularly close, I've maintained professionalism and expressed my condolences regarding her illness.

Our department is known for its camaraderie, and as such, most of my coworkers have contributed their paid leave to help Sarah spend more time with her family and perhaps undergo treatment. Sarah had used up almost all her leave entitlements, which made this gesture from our team especially significant. This has left me somewhat isolated because I chose not to donate my leave. My rationale is not out of insensitivity but from a practical standpoint—I'm somewhat certain about the inevitable outcome and feel that donating my leave wouldn't extend Sarah's life but merely postpone the inevitable.

This decision has not gone unnoticed. A few team members who are close to Sarah have whispered disapproving comments, questioning my empathy toward her situation. When confronted, I've been candid about my views, believing it's better for Sarah to appreciate the remaining time with loved ones without prolonging the inevitable through my contribution. I'm not aware of her financial status, and while it may seem cold, it hasn't influenced my decision.

If this scenario were part of a reality show, the dynamics and my resultant isolation could be a focal point of an episode, likely painting me as the antagonist in the narrative. Reality TV thrives on conflict and pushing emotional buttons, so the producers might highlight my decision not to donate leave, emphasizing the backlash from colleagues to amplify drama. Strategies like confessionals or private interviews could be used to delve deeper into my reasoning, possibly gaining viewer sympathy or further criticism. The portrayal would hinge on the editing choices, potentially skewing public perception in favor of more dramatic outcomes.

How would you react if this situation was featured on a reality show? 🙃